Ana María and the Fox (The Luna Sisters, #1)

by Liana De la Rosa

For under Gideon’s hands, she became lost in the onslaught of all the things they had tried so very hard to ignore.

his tongue sweeping across her mouth as if she were his first taste of heaven,

“You deserve more than dalliances. You deserve a man who will recognize how clever you are. How you think deeply about things, and approach new ideas or viewpoints with empathy. How despite a childhood spent in competition with your sisters, you refuse to view them as antagonists, and seek their happiness instead.”

Stroking his knuckles down her cheek, he kissed her temple, inhaling deeply of her scent. “You are an amazing woman, Miss Luna, and you deserve the world. And that’s the crux.”

His eyes stared at her intently, and she glimpsed sadness lurking in their midnight depths.

Gideon had made it abundantly clear that his career was his priority, and knowing him the way she did now, she understood why. He wasn’t working just to realize his own ambitions, but to atone for the past and to create a better future for so many people like him. And although she ached to have him for more than just this stolen moment, her future was in Mexico. With another man.

“I’m not asking for the world, Señor Fox.” She adjusted the fall of his cravat, and then settled her palm over where his heart thundered in his che...

For heartache had become her old friend.

“My guardian angel placed Mr. Fox exactly where he needed to be to ensure all was well.”

You knew you and Señor Fox could not be. You must remember Fernando. It may be wartime, but an engagement should not be broken so lightly.

Do you really want to make England your permanent home? For you know Señor Fox would never consent to live in Mexico, not when his work in Parliament is so dear to him. Are you willing to give up your home for his?

It was just a ki...

“If you ever lay a hand on my sister again—on any woman at this party—I will stab you with my hairpin.” Ana María pointed a finger at the man, rage making her entire body tremble.

The marchioness held up her hand, cutting him off. “Because you are a notorious abuser of women. Oh yes, we women warn our daughters and charges about you and your presumptuous hands and crude words.”

“Nothing more than a bruise,” Isabel murmured. “Even a bruise is too much, Isa.” Ana María stroked her thumbs over her sister’s knuckles.

“All I know is that Lord Tyrell is not done with us. Men like him will not allow themselves to be humiliated in front of a crowd without some form of retribution.”

“I could kill that man for hurting you!”

Isabel blinked rapidly as her confused gaze met Ana María’s, before she slowly wrapped her arms about their sister. “I pity any man who encounters you in a dark corridor.”

“Well, rest assured, my lady, that no matter what the earl had tried, he would have met the sharp end of my hairpin in the process,” Ana María declared.

“I will always be there, Isa. For you and Gabby.”

Ana María had always been so frustrated with her sister’s exuberant antics, her lightning-quick temper . . . but spending this time with her in England had made it abundantly clear that Gabby had just wanted to be seen. To be valued. To be loved.

The starch gradually seeped from her frame, and eventually Gabby rested her head against Ana María’s shoulder. The pair breathed in harmony for several minutes, the early-morning light enveloping them in a halo of peace and quiet.

“Oh, my mood fluctuates.” Gabby snorted. “I’m sure that’s not surprising to you.”

“And yet, here, in this frigid, humorless place, I have been given liberties I never would have been granted at home.” A breath expanded her lungs. “Instead of being known as Señor Luna’s youngest daughter, the traviesa who causes trouble wherever she goes, I’m Miss Gabriela Luna, a proud Mexican and whatever else I decide to be.”

“Father didn’t even ask if you wanted to marry Señor Ramírez. He didn’t even make the man court you before he proposed because Señor Ramírez had courted Father instead.” She threw her hands into the air. “That makes no sense. You are the one who will have to live with him. Share a bed with him. Bear his children. And he wasn’t even expected to get to know you aside from your name. Your surname.”

It was as if fate could not let her experience happiness for too long without raining down its displeasure upon her.

“I asked you to sit,” he bit out, his eyes narrowed on her. “And as I am not your pet, or your servant, or any other person beholden to you”—she narrowed her eyes—“I refuse.”

His morning hack across the damp, foggy meadows had been meant to strip the memories of Ana María’s taste, the feel of her willing, curvy body within his arms, from his mind, where they had been haunting him since the previous day. But even the crisp, fresh air could not exorcise her demons.

No one was, and Gideon knew, in the churning depths of his soul, that he would never meet another woman quite like her.

Ana María had hinted that her life was not her own, which didn’t stand out to him at the time, for most young women of wealthy families were often used as bargaining chips.

“We did not escape war, travel across the ocean, and finally taste a bit of freedom for you to fall into the snare of such a vicious snake of a man.”

“Marry me instead.”

“If we marry, Miss Luna, I can protect you. I have connections and enough power to ensure that you, Isabel, and Gabby remain safe.” He yanked on his waistcoat, alarmed to find himself out of breath. “But aside from protection, as your husband I can offer you a comfortable life filled with opportunities to do good works and push forth reforms that would make this world a better place to live for all people. I would respect you, even more than I do now.”

Her gaze was unrelenting, her eyes staring into the heart of him. The secret part of him that was certain he would fall in love with her . . . and perhaps had already done so.

“Miss Luna, I would gain you. The chance to welcome every sunrise by your side and say good night to every sunset. Just spending my life with you, orbiting around your smile and laugh, would make me the richest of men.”

But Gideon knew—knew in the marrow of his bones—that he’d rather the earl be his enemy than for Miss Luna to be that monster’s wife.

My engagement to him will not shield us from Lord Tyrell’s machinations.

“I’d be happy to marry you, Señor Fox.”

She was to be his wife, and Gideon’s heart lurched out of rhythm at the thought.

Lady Yardley scoffed. “I’ve been waiting for you to win her over.”

Subterfuge would be key.

By the end of the day, they would be on the road, racing to Dancourt Abbey and his new, unexpected future with Ana María Luna.

Dios mío, soon she would be Señora Ana María Luna de Fox.

Lady Yardley had not expected this amount of excitement or chaos when she agreed to serve as chaperone for her and her sisters, and Ana María was thankful for the older woman.

She would soon be Mrs. Fox. He would be her husband.

“Please call me Gideon.” He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. “I think you more than deserve to use that name.”

“Well, then please call me Ana María.” She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. “Or Ana.”

Memories of the taste and shape of Gideon’s lips flashed through her mind like a bolt of lightning, and soon she would be at liberty to indulge in all manner of carnal pleasures with the man who had fascinated her from the first.

Amusement . . . and something darker . . . sat on Gideon’s expression when she looked up at him.

“Just because the circumstances are inconvenient and not at all what I would have chosen for myself does not mean that this choice was hard. Had my attentions been free to give, I would have gladly paid them to you.”